Dotty Parker

meow meow meow meow

I want chicken. I want liver. Meow Mix, Meow Mix, please de-liv-er!

Saw Cats last night with BoPeep, Florette, and WhirlyBird.

I so very much wanted to hate it so I could maintain my annoying and superior attitude to such frivolity.

But I liked it.

I can complain about a few things, but my three companions already had to listen to me, so I think, given their gracious, but oh-so-patient reactions, maybe I'll keep it to myself this time. They are sweet to me.

I wanted to dislike it because of the "Memory" song. Ther version I always hear is the one that's belted into a microphone somewhere. Everything is full sounding and complete. It's practiced and perfected. It's grown up and unassailable. It's uncompromising and hardened.

The context changes all that. I've always hated the whole, "Touch me! It's so easy to leave me!" Yeah yeah. At least someone stayed in the first place.

That's how I thought it would be. That's how it sounded. Like a freshman girl realizing, "Oh God. He was totally drunk. He doesn't even know my name. But I love him! Oh please! Touch me! It's so easy to leave me!"

But our sweet kitty who sings is actually much more tender and vulnerable and afraid. Her desire to be touched is to have someone acknowledge that she isn't repellant and appalling. She's pleading as if it's her last chance to change her life.

Wow I hate that paragraph. Maudling sentimentality worthy of a freshman girl. I'd change it, but I really do have things to accomplish today.

I want a fur tutu.

I want a fur tutu so very much. I looked at how it was made, and I could make it. I don't really have a desire to wear some bespeckled leotard, but it might come down to that. (How funny is it that people in Cats wear LEOtards. Hahahaha!

The woman who wore the fur tutu sings so beautifully. And she's kind to the old, theatrical kitty. I do love that. So I'm in love with the kitty tutu. I want to be the woman in the kitty tutu. If I take voice lessons, learn how to dance, get really fit, and decide that acting's for me...there's no stopping me, baby!

And I'm in love with the old, theatrical kitty. He sings. Bee-yoo-tifully. In Italian.

sigh

And he's funny, too. And very sweet. And he sang a v. amusing duet with the fur tutu lady.

Toward the end of the play he stood in front of me to sing and he looked right at me for a while.

So I winked.

Tee hee.

He gave me a smile that made his kitty face crinkle around his kitty eyes. So I blew him a kiss. La la la.

And he smiled again. A bigger smile this time. Oooo la la.

So then I waved to him, much to the chagrin of my compatriots, and he made kitty-pawing-the-air-while-high-on-catnip motions. Then I kissed his kitty hand.

And he went away.

Touch me! It's so easy to leave me!

yeah yeah.

I'm thoroughly amused. BoPeep asked, after I kissed his kitty hand, "Did he invite you to the cast party?"

"No. Do you want to go?"

Ahhhhhhh, his bio holds the key, my darlings. He is already very much in love.

With Bob.

I say this: if you're going to get near enough to me so that I can touch your kitty nose, you're daring me to do it, right?

I generally don't go in for dares. Especially if they're spoken out loud. Unless I want to do it anyway, of course.

But he was a cutie, in that not-cute kind of way. And I was in the second row. And he smiled at me. And he loves Bob.

I'm not a tease. I'm interactive.

Posted by dotty at August 23, 2004 11:04 AM